


Chivalry Is Dead, But You’re Still Kinda Cute

by hharrytomlinson



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Barebacking, Blow Jobs, Bondage, Bottom Harry, Dom/sub, Double Penetration, Dry Humping, Dry Orgasm, Dry Sex, Dubious Consent, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Humiliation, M/M, Multi, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Polyamory, Promiscuity, Punishment, Rimming, Sex Toys, Spanking, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Ben, Top Liam, Top Louis, Top Niall, Top Nick, Top Zayn, Under-negotiated Kink, Watersports, and a shit ton of other stuff, but barely, i wrote it so loNG AGO, polyamorous louis, this is a mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-11
Updated: 2015-09-11
Packaged: 2018-04-20 07:32:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4778867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hharrytomlinson/pseuds/hharrytomlinson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a small enough town that everyone’s known for something. Harry’s grandmother is known for having a promiscuous grandson. And Louis. Louis is known for letting men watch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chivalry Is Dead, But You’re Still Kinda Cute

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wankerville](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wankerville/gifts).



> this was initially written for dani'elle, wankerville, so a lot of the parts are kinda weird w intentions of only her reading it  
> plEASEE READ THE TAGS!!!
> 
> Special thanks: To Promiscuous Girl by Nelly Furtado ft. Timbaland.
> 
> [tumblr](http://arofrottage.tumblr.com)

Everything goes fast. It seems that Harry’s walking the stage with a cap and gown, rolled up diploma in hand, and then, two seconds later, he’s hurrying through the train station with his mum who’s minutes from being late for work.

Harry carries the bulk of his suitcases, but an entire two months of clothing, toiletries, and the two dildos and bottle of lube he’d slipped in underneath it all fits three bags. That doesn’t include the eight books and Harry’s laptop, which take up a lot more space than previously anticipated.

The train ride itself lingers too long. Harry wishes his grandmother lived closer, because getting to Doncaster takes two hours by train and Harry lives in the city. He’s used to being within walking distance when he wants to get to a friend’s, and taking a five minute tube ride if they’re across the city. He also wishes she were closer because his grandmother’s ill with a live in nurse and Harry feels bad that he doesn’t want to spend the entire vacation worrying about her health, how she’s doing, and feeling expected to check in on her, even though they’re paying someone else to do it.

Harry falls asleep on the train, because he’s tired from a graduation party the night before. When he wakes up, they’re ten minutes from reaching the station in Doncaster, where he takes a cab to his grandmother’s with a fifty stuffed in his pocket. He has an extra thousand on his credit card from his mum in case he needs anything during his visit.

When he gets to his grandmother’s, Harry greets her and offers to make them lunch because her nurse is out food shopping. Harry figures it seems least suspicious if he spends two days laying around the house until his grandmother suggests he goes out, instead of leaving the second he arrives. He didn’t want to seem too eager to hit the town and go to a club or two.

Harry meets Zayn, the live in nurse, briefly. They exchange greetings and _nice to meet you_ , but he’s more interested in how rough his facial hair would feel between his legs and the tall, dark, and handsome aspect. Harry abandons his plan five hours into his visit, because if Zayn won’t fuck him, he’ll find someone who will.

*

Harry’s at a bar down the street from his grandmother’s and sipping on something pink and sweet, when two guys approach him in a row, one after the other, and Harry politely turns them down. Not his type. It’s only then he realizes he’s found himself inside of a gay bar and the bartender suggesting the drink for him in place of a beer makes a little more sense.

So does the bartender, who leans in a little bit closer than he should when Harry talks and tells him his drink’s on the house. Harry’s legal, but no one asks for his ID on the off chance that he isn’t.

The bartender is more Harry’s type than the men who approach him. His hair shouts _daddy_ and Harry wonders if the hints of red in his beard spread elsewhere, if the drapes match the carpet.

“When do you get off?” Harry asks a bit louder when the bartender can’t hear him the first time over the televisions playing football and shouting from guys further down the bar.

“Whenever you do, darling.” He smiles, and then says, “Nine.”

“I can wait.”

The bartender doesn’t tell Harry otherwise. Instead, he supplies him with another drink and Harry watches him put in more vodka than the last. Harry’s a bit tipsy by the time he follows the man out of the bar, through the back exit, and towards his car.

They reach the car, and Harry expects to get inside, but the bartender grabs his waist and has him against the vehicle, rather than inside. He’s content just like this, a man up against him and the slight risk someone will see through the lamp posts running through his veins.

“I didn’t quite catch your name.” The man smiles against Harry’s ear, letting his facial hair drag against his skin. “And I think you need to know mine so you know what to scream.”

“I’m Harry.” Harry presses his hips just slightly against the bartender’s, only so that he’ll push him back against the car.

“Louis.” The bartender presses a kiss to Harry’s mouth. “I live over there.” Louis points his head across the street from the carpark. “This isn’t my car.”

Harry giggles against Louis’ lips. He’s guided through the parking lot with an arm on his waist and hand practically on his bum. He likes the feeling of ownership, even if Louis is a near stranger, and the short walk to the flat buildings isn’t anything he can’t handle.

They don’t make it to the bedroom. Or the couch. By the time they get inside of Louis’ flat, Harry’s dying to be pushed up against something, and kisses Louis just so that he’ll be pressed to the door. He undoes Louis’ belt while Louis holds his face and keeps their mouths connected.

The night before, Harry wasn’t able to find anyone shag worthy at the party and just needs it. He needs it and parts his mouth in protest when Louis pulls his hands away just when they’re about to get inside of his boxers.

His face released, Harry’s hands are pinned above his head in one of Louis’, while Louis undoes his belt with the other, pushing Harry’s boxers and jeans down in one go, and leaving him bare. Harry’s cock is out and he’s hard.

“This for me?” Louis laughs against Harry’s cheek and kisses him once more, before telling him to turn around.

Harry doesn’t expect to get eaten out by a one night stand, but Louis’ kneeling between his legs and Harry’s cock is stuck between him and the wall. He’s dying to push against Louis’ face, but Louis has him pinned down and every time Harry puts up the tiniest amount of fight, Louis’ tongue goes away, leaving him empty.

Harry’s panting by the time there’s lube dripping out of his bum from Louis’ laziness and he’s being fucked against the wall. He’s never done it like this before, with nothing to hold onto and Louis holding his hands behind his back while thrusting into him.

Harry only has a bit of a buzz and he’s tired by the time Louis presses against him so hard that he comes. He falls limp in an instant, and Louis has to hold him up to finish himself off, which doesn’t take very long. He doesn’t remember very clearly after that, but does know that Louis’ kind enough to clean him off before bringing him to bed.

+

Harry wakes up on his back, his eyes opening slowly when he feels a hand on his hard cock and turns his head to see the man from the night before, Louis, with his head resting on his shoulder.

“You were rutting against me like you haven’t come in weeks.” Louis murmurs quietly, raising his other hand to fix the curls out of Harry’s eyes.

“Sorry.” Harry blushes.

“How old are you?” Louis asks casually.

“Eighteen.”

Louis lets out a laugh.

“Why? How old are you?”

“Twenty-six.” Louis says and Harry bites his lip.

“Oh.” Harry’s voice grows quiet, but Louis’ hand doesn’t stop. It feels good, and Harry’s not one for protesting a hand job, so he lets Louis go faster and curls in on himself when it’s _too_ fast. He begs Louis to slow down in small pants, but Louis can tell that Harry likes it when he says no and goes faster.

Harry’s eyes are shut until Louis tells him to open them. He comes all over himself and Louis’ hand. There’s a proposal for them to share a shower somewhere in there, but Louis makes tea while Harry washes himself up instead. After, Harry enters the kitchen with wet hair and leaves with a phone number to call.

His grandma doesn’t even notice he’s left. Zayn does.

+

Harry’s surprised when he gets a text from Louis two days later, and even more surprised when he’s asking him on a date and not looking for a booty call. He says yes.

Finding his tightest skinny jeans at the bottom of his suitcase, he takes longer to get ready than normal. He fixes his hair three times before deciding it looks okay and changes shirts twice. After a total of twenty minutes, trying and retrying on the same two pairs of shoes, he finally ends up settling on one.

At seven pm sharp, Louis pulls up in front of Harry’s grandmother’s house. He goes into her room to say goodnight to her, and when Zayn asks where he’s going from the kitchen, he calls, “Out!” behind him as he locks the front door shut on his way out of the house.

Louis gets out of the car to open the passenger door for Harry, but it really just leads to them making out against the side of the car with Louis’ hand down the back of Harry’s jeans. Harry falls into the touch, leans his lips into Louis’ and gives into the tongue pressing against his.

It’s when the outside light is turned on from inside the house that Harry and Louis break apart. Harry giggles into the night air when Louis pulls his hand away with one last grope. He settles into the passenger seat without another word.

The restaurant Harry’s taken to is nicer than he had expected it to be. Louis has a table reserved in the back, a booth where Harry’s knees knock into Louis’ if he tries to stretch out his legs. It’s no surprise that there’s more touching than conversation, Harry’s left hand rubbing Louis’ inner thigh while his right stays above the table, tracing the tattoos on Louis’ wrists in awe.

When the server comes to get their drinks, Louis orders a bottle of wine. Once the man’s gone, Harry’s confused when Louis tells Harry, “Sit on your hands.” But he doesn’t disobey, or even question it. He moves his hand away from Louis’ crotch, where it’s slithered up his leg overtime, and places his other one below the table. He sits on his hands and sulks against the booth until Louis asks him why he’s in town.

“My mum,” Harry grins, “she gets mad when I bring men home.”

“Men,” Louis chuckles, “you’re eighteen.”

“Is that why I’m sitting on my hands?”

Louis shrugs. The server brings over a bottle of wine and pours out two glasses. He glances at the way Harry’s sitting on his hands, but doesn’t pay much attention to it. Once he’s gone, Louis responds.

“You’re sitting on your hands because you’re mine tonight.” Louis picks up Harry’s glass and presses the rim against his bottom lip. “And you’re doing as I want.” He tips the glass back and doesn’t stop until it’s empty.

Harry’s panting, and he doesn’t think it’s from chugging his glass of wine.

The food comes and Harry has to wait two minutes of watching Louis eat before he’s told he can use his hands again. Louis feeds him bites of cake for dessert and another glass of wine before they leave.

“Mine?” Louis murmurs into Harry’s ear on their way out. Harry nods in response and leans into Louis’ arm on his shoulder.

Harry crawls into Louis’ lap before he has the chance to turn on the ignition. There’s lips and tongues and teeth. Harry knows that Louis paid for dinner, which drives him to fall into his knees against the snow mats on the car’s ground and fumble hurriedly with his belt.

“Harry,” Louis isn’t moaning and he’s not putting up with Harry. Instead, he tears his hands away from his belt and says, “Go back to your seat, love.”

Maybe it’s because it’s dark, or because Louis’ fingers are stern and gentle, but Harry listens. He hasn’t even came yet and he’s never been so obedient.

“On your hands.” Louis says as he backs out of the car park. “Good boy.”

+

Harry’s naked. His cock’s pressed up against his stomach and he’s naked. Beneath him is Louis, who’s fully clothed and holding onto his waist.

“Lou,” Harry’s neck is littered with red marks from being kissed and bit at too roughly. His mouth is sore and he just really needs to come. “When?”

“Whenever you want to, sweet pea, we’re waiting on you.” Louis brushes Harry’s hair behind his ears because his wrists are tied together with Louis’ belt from behind his back.

“Can’t.” Harry sticks out his bottom lip, feeling like he could easily cry. “Not prepped.”

“Darling,” Louis laughs, “I’m not going to fuck you on the first date. What do you take me for?”

Harry feels humiliated, straddling Louis’ lap naked when Louis’ still fully clothed. He wants to get off, but he’s being held down and his wrists are restrained.

“I want you to rub one out on me.” Louis makes himself clear, and to help it along he presses down on Harry’s back, letting him fall against his chest. Harry feels nervous about moving his hips down, but it’s Louis’ hand resting on his bum that encourages him. “Just like that.” Louis hums when Harry grinds his hips down, his cock pressing against Louis’ through his jeans.

Except it hurts. The material on Louis’ jeans is rough and Harry’s cock is sensitive. He stops and shakes his head, looking up at Louis from his chest.

“I didn’t say you were done, darling. You’re done when you come.”

Harry tries. He tries hard, and the only thing keeping him from not pulling away is Louis’ gentle hand holding onto his bum. He feels supported, even if Louis isn’t doing anything but resting his fingers around the shape of his ass, and wouldn’t be able to get through this without it.

When Harry sits up for a moment, he catches a glimpse at his penis, which looks painful and red and decides, “I can’t.”

“How come?” Louis sounds deflated and Harry feels bad. Louis tightens his grip on his bum and Harry blinks up at him.

“Can you just pull your jeans down a bit?”

Harry’s surprised, _so_ surprised when Louis agrees. He fixes his jeans down just enough to expose the soft gray fabric of his boxers. And just how hard he is.

“Thank you.” Harry says softly, before the hand on his bum returns, except this time holding on tight and leaving a bright red mark, and he goes back to rutting against Louis, pressing his crotch forward and back onto Louis’.

Harry’s eighteen. His stamina is different than Louis’ and he makes small whiney noises when he comes. It takes two minutes of rutting against Louis with his hands behind his back before he comes all over Louis’ boxers and falls flat against his chest.

Resting on Louis’ chest and having just came, Harry feels tired. He wants to groan in protest when Louis’ hand moves off of his bum, but he doesn’t have the energy, barely has it to register the come being wiped off his penis with the hem of Louis’ shirt and being moved to lie on Louis’ bed instead of him. He feels his legs being spread apart and the coldness of Louis’ lube slicking his hole up enough to fit two fingers. But he doesn’t feel like he lives through any of it, especially not until Louis’ fucking him. He’s still not quite ready for any of it, but isn’t in protest, either.

“Lou,” Harry can feel himself getting hard again, but also, “I need to pee.”

“That’s what happens when you drink half a bottle of wine.” Louis laughs into Harry’s neck and kisses the back of his head. “It’s okay.” He kisses him again. “Don’t worry about it. I’m washing the sheets after, anyway.

Harry confused. Louis spreads his legs farther apart. With every buck of his hips, he worries he might pee in the bed, and the more he thinks about it, the fuller his bladder feels. But he also feels hard again, like he could come. His penis feels raw and abused and Louis’ hand suddenly reaches in front of him to get him off again.

“It’s okay,” Louis repeats, this time softer, “I want you to let it all out.”

Harry realizes what Louis means when he’s lying in his own wee and Louis’ just come inside of him.

“You’re so lovely like this.” Louis kisses the shell of Harry’s ear. “But we’ve got to get you cleaned up, sweetheart.”

“No.” Harry shakes his head and squeezes his eyes shut, panting into the sheets. “Again.”

Louis laughs, “Again? Which part?”

Harry can’t answer. Louis’ fingers trace over his wrists until the belt is loosened and lets him free. He doesn’t move his hands apart.

“Be good,” Louis gets up and rests beside Harry, kissing him on the nose, “I don’t want to have to punish you.”

Harry feels ashamed by the wet spot he’s left on the bed when he gets up. He showers like Louis suggests while the bed’s stripped and the sheets are washed. There’s a tight pair of boxers waiting for him by a towel when he gets out and wraps his hair with his towel once he’s done drying off.

“Lou,” Harry greets him in the kitchen hesitantly, “do you always do that when you have sex?”

Louis holds Harry by the waist and kisses him on the tip of the nose with a smile. “Only with the cute ones.”

+

Harry leaves Louis’ the following morning with a blow job and a peck on the lips, before he’s driven home. His grandma’s asleep, even though it’s two in the afternoon, and Zayn offers to make him lunch.

+

Louis and Harry make plans to go on another date, but Louis’ assigned a last minute shift that delays it by three hours. Instead, Harry decides to go to the bar at nine, an hour before Louis gets off, and hang around there while he waits.

Louis’ behind the bar when Harry arrives. He’s wiping down the countertop with a towel and Harry sits at the end of it while Louis makes drinks for two customers. By the time he’s spotted, he’s been there for ten minutes just watching Louis, and giggles at the way Louis flirts with him from across the bar.

“Sex on the beach.” Harry tells Louis when he orders.

“Too far away. Can you settle for a lake?” Louis leans in to kiss Harry again. “How about some chocolate milk? No one ever orders that. Not sure why it’s on the menu.”

Harry pouts his bottom lip.

“We might have strawberry syrup in the back if you prefer that?” Louis suggests.

“ _Lou_.” Harry groans in protest.

“Fine, plain it is.” Louis sighs and stands up straight from where he was formerly leaning against the counter. He returns with a glass of milk that Harry sips at while glaring at Louis from the other end of the bar.

Thirty minutes until Louis’ shift ends, a man sits beside Harry at the bar and smiles at him, before ordering a beer from Louis. While Louis fetches it for him, the man checks his phone, and then smiles at Harry again.

“Do you happen to know where the nearest Tescos is?” The man asks. “Sorry, I’m unfamiliar with the area.”

“I’m just visiting too,” Harry smiles, “but I know I saw one about five minutes from here. If you go down, you know the main road that runs behind the car park out back? If you go down there, it’s on the left I believe.”

“Thank you. My mates are no help with directions. The worst.” Harry notices the man glancing at his glass of milk, but he’s polite enough not to comment. “I’m Liam.”

“Harry.”

Liam’s the one to offer his hand, which is unfamiliar to Harry, but he shakes it anyway. When Louis returns with Liam’s drink, they’re chatting amiably. A part of Harry wants Louis to notice and inquire about it by the time he gets off his shift, but instead Harry follows beside Louis to a booth with his arm around his waist and lips whispering about a couple in the corner who’re practically shagging into his ear. Stuff like, “Do you think if they conceive a child they’ll name it after their server?” and, “Aw, he kisses just like you.” Harry laughs especially hard at the first comment, because they’re both men and the world doesn’t need another Louis.

Louis sits beside Harry in the booth, like they’re waiting for someone else. But Harry kind of likes that he’s packed in close to the wall and can feel Louis’ side up against his. He especially likes it when they order fries and beer and Louis’ hand keeps brushing his every time they go to dip their fries into ketchup.

Liam sits across from them in the booth and greets Louis, and then Louis introduces them loosely, assuming they already know one another from the bar, and things make a bit more sense.

“Are you staying with Louis?” Harry asks curiously. It doesn’t matter to him, but it does mean that there’s less of a chance they’ll be shagging tonight.

“Cleaning up after him is cheaper than staying in a hotel.”

“Hey, I’m not messy.” Louis defends himself.

“The only thing you do is laundry. You barely vacuum and don’t get me started on the dishes.”

“Harry’s neat enough for the both of us. Got all worried about dirtying my bed when he was over.” Louis winks and Liam fake gags before getting up to get another drink from the bar. While he’s gone, Louis whispers into Harry’s ear, “I bet we could get you a nice little maid costume and put you to work then, hm?” And Harry loves the idea, could probably come over it if he tried hard enough.

Liam comes back to chat more with Harry and Louis, and then says he’s heading out to meet up with someone whose name is unfamiliar, but Louis seems to know.

“I’ll be back to yours by twelve.” Liam tells Louis before paying his tab and leaving.

Louis and Harry order sundaes. Louis complains they gave him sprinkles when he didn’t want any and Harry loves them, so he doesn’t mind when Louis spoons all of them out of his sundae and transports them into Harry’s. Harry’s cherry goes to Louis in exchange.

It’s all witty comments from Louis that make Harry giggle and lick the ice cream off of his spoon until Louis asks, “Do you want to get back to mine?”

Harry nods his head, before Louis’ paying the tab and guiding Harry out of the bar with a hand on his lower back.

+

Harry’s resting on top of Louis on the couch, their legs slotted together and chests pressed against one another’s. He expects to be shagged, but the only satisfaction given appears to be the hand on his bum and the way Louis’ mouth moves against his when he gives in every few minutes. Other than that, it’s all television and Louis telling Harry to stop, “I’m serious, Harry, I don’t have a problem spanking you.” He almost thinks being spanked would be worth it if it means getting attention from Louis.

But Harry’s good and listens. He eventually calms down and sits still enough to pay attention to the film on the television, and is in the middle of sleep when he hears the keys in the door and Louis shifting, turning his head to watch Liam enter.

“Hey,” Louis frowns, “you’re late.”

“Sorry.” Liam apologizes. “He asleep?”

“Not for long.” Louis traces Harry’s pink lips with his index finger.

“You don’t have to wake him.” Liam sets something down, grocery bags. “I think I’m just going to go to bed.”

“Be ready in a half hour.”

Liam sighs. Louis shuffles beneath Harry and lifts the hem of his shirt, tracing over his warm back with even warmer hands.

“Harry, darling,” Louis whispers, “twenty more minutes of sleep, that’s it though, okay?”

It’s a bit late and Harry’s been going to sleep early recently. Zayn wakes him at nine every morning for breakfast, leading Harry to sometimes wonder if Zayn’s there to take care of him, too.

When Harry wakes up, he’s still on top of Louis, except his jeans, his tightest, nicest jeans, are down to his ankles and his freshly shaven legs are spread so wide, that one of them hangs off the couch.

It’s the shifting by his legs and the fingers up his bum that make him realize Louis isn’t the only one in the room.

“This okay with you?” Louis whispers so quietly that Harry barely hears it. He parts his lips, confused until his prostate is hit and he moans just like that, eyes squeezed shut and head nodding. “Thought so.” Louis brushes the hair out of Harry’s eyes and kisses him on the forehead. “You can put more in, Li.”

Harry’s never had a threesome before, or someone who takes care of him like Louis. The way he comes rutting against Louis and begging Liam to go faster with his fingers says it all.

“You’ll take both of us, okay?” Louis asks, although a part of Harry knows Louis isn’t _really_ asking, more so telling. The preparation is long and leaves Harry on edge for the worst amount of time after his first orgasm of the night. He understands why Liam needs to have his entire hand up there before the condom is ripped open, but doesn’t like not being able to have more than he’s given.

When Liam first enters Harry, Harry gasps and tries to shrink against Louis, but Liam keeps going in. Harry feels like he’s never been so full before, and can’t see what’s happening, but knows that he must be ridiculously stretched.

And then: “A few thrusts,” Liam says between pants, “and you’ll fit in.”

Harry didn’t realize they’d both be inside him at once and grips onto Louis’ shirt, dying for his help, even though he’s the ringleader.

It all happens too fast for Harry to comprehend, but Liam and Louis seem to change positions, with Harry seated on Liam’s cock and Louis leaning over them. Harry’s legs are spread humiliatingly wide and he’s manhandled by four hands at once.

He tries to close his eyes while Louis hangs over him and thrusts inside, but Louis won’t have it, murmurs, “You can sleep after.”

But Harry can’t help squeezing his eyes shut when his prostate is rubbed in two different places at once and it’s all so painful but good at the same time. He thinks of the last time he shagged Louis and how humiliated he’d be if he wanted him to pee himself this time, with Liam, who he’s just met tonight, watching. He wouldn’t put it past him.

Harry likes it when Louis pins his hands above his head and doesn’t let him touch his cock, even though he’s desperate to do so. He likes the way Louis has him spread his legs wider, and both Louis and Liam come at the same time.

A part of him likes that Louis gets him off for the second time with his fist on his cock and when they’re all done and messy, Harry’s promised a shower, where he spends the entire time leaning against Louis for support because his bum’s so sore.

Harry likes getting dropped off by Liam the following day and wearing the ache in his bum like a badge of honor.

+

Louis is all Harry can think about. When he’s watching television with his side pressed against Zayn’s because the couch is full of his grandmother’s knitting supplies and they have to share the love seat. When he’s eating a banana in the kitchen and can’t help the innuendo that pops into his head from the way his lips relax around the fruit. And most importantly, when he has a hand slipped down his pants in the middle of the night and wakes up with a stickiness between his legs.

Louis is all Harry can think about, together and apart. It’s lust in the purest of forms that drives him to submission.

+

Louis wants more, is what Harry understands by the way he asks him over a few days later. It’s the way that he’s pressed against the wall and kissed until his lips are sore, and then pushed to his knees without as much as a moment to breathe.

Louis _needs_ more, and Harry wants to give himself completely. Even if that means kneeling on the man’s bed, wrists and ankles tied together from behind and the taste of Louis’ come still sitting on his tongue from two hours prior.

Louis says he won’t untie him until he gets himself off, but he’s not even in the bedroom anymore, left a long time ago with only the alarm clock on the night table allowing Harry to judge how much time is passing.

Harry eventually figures it out when he manages to press his bare hips to the mattress and grind just the slightest bit forward. He’s been hard for a long time, but hadn’t been able to add any pressure on himself until now.

He’s _so_ close to coming after only a minute of doing this when Louis comes into the bedroom. He leans his head by Harry’s and presses a kiss to his cheek, before wiping his sweaty hair out of his face.

And then he does something that has Harry crying, giving up. He squeezes Harry’s balls hard enough to get rid of the orgasm feeling, to delay everything he feels like he’s worked so hard toward.

“Shh,” Louis tries to comfort when Harry begins to sob from deep in his throat, “you can do it, just a few more ruts, darling.”

But Harry shakes his head and refuses.

“Would you rather I spank you?” Louis sighs. He runs a hand through his hair in seeming frustration.

Nodding his head, Harry sniffles, knowing that at least it’ll get him off.

Harry’s relieved to have his limbs untied and muscles relax, but he’s almost instantly pulled over Louis’ lap, where his head is rested on a pillow and he sucks his bottom lip into his mouth to avoid whimpering too loud from the impact of Louis’ hand. Louis doesn’t go easy on him, and with each spanking, his hips jut forward, bringing him close to the orgasm that was taken away from him.

“Thank you.” Harry whispers after he comes and Louis’ hand stops on his stinging bum. The bruises that last for an entire week later are worth coming in Louis’ lap.

+

They do it again, Harry’s hands and ankles tied together with his stomach pressed to the bed. When he asks why, Louis’ only reply is, “You couldn’t get it right the first time.” before he leaves Harry alone.

Harry doesn’t begin rutting right away, because then it’ll be over within minutes and he doesn’t know when Louis plans to come check up on him again. He doesn’t want to have to sulk in a pile of his own come for half an hour with it drying on his stomach. But he’s confident that if he loosens the rope just enough, he’ll have full access to moving his hips and rut against the mattress like the way he’d rutted against Louis on their first date until he came.

It’s then, when he’s about to try to get himself off, that the bedroom door creaks open. He’s hard and fully nude and doesn’t expect for Louis to come beside him and say, “Pretty like this, isn’t he?”

Harry knows that Louis isn’t talking to him, especially when he hears other footsteps. There’s another man in the room who isn’t Louis and Harry can’t see who. Harry never said he could stay and watch, but he’s not in the position to do so. With a light pat on his bum and a squeeze from the stranger with Louis’ permission, Harry pants heavily as he forces himself to come all over Louis’ mattress.

He’s untied slowly, and then turned over onto his back, spreading come across his bum and revealing his reddened cock. There’s an unfamiliar man standing over him, beside Louis, who glances at him from head to toe.

“You going to give Nick a show?” Louis asks. Harry’s unsure on what Louis means until Louis’ unbuckling his belt and is wiping lube all over his hole, stretching him open fast.

Harry’s on top this time, for the first time without his hands tied, and he eases slowly on top of Louis, with Nick sitting on the desk chair beside Louis’ bed and watching. Nick, who’s getting himself off and Harry doesn’t even know, but he doesn’t mind as much as he should when Louis has his hands holding tightly onto his waist and is inside of him.

Harry trusts Louis, which is why when another man watches a week later he’s okay with it, even when Louis has him make out with Harry’s parted lips while he comes, the man identified as Ben pinning down his wrists to the mattress and kissing him from upside down.

Louis thinks it’s hot and Harry agrees. He even begins to wonder if these are friends of Louis’ and if he does this with every boy he fucks. But they rarely talk about past relationships and flings, they don’t define whatever it is that they have.

The orgasms are worth the rumors that begin to spread and the glances from random strangers. Throughout it all, Harry manages to find a summer job at a convenience store down the street to pass the summer days and flirt with cute customers who stop in to get gas or beer. There’s the occasional asking for Louis’ number because someone’s been told by a friend of a friend that you can’t just _ask_ Harry for a turn to watch, you have to contact Louis first. But Harry’s polite about it and sends them to the gay bar a five minute walk away instead.

“He’s working a shift right now.” Harry smiles and hands them a receipt, before sending whoever it is on their way.

The difference between this and his antics back home is that his grandmother never leaves the home. She doesn’t find out.

+

After working all day, Harry’s ready to shower and get into bed the second he gets home. Zayn offers to make him supper, “There’s some left overs in the fridge you might like.” but Harry’s not particularly hungry. Louis had stopped by at five with a box of takeout from the bar and while Harry took a break, they ate in the back room.

He’s trying to fall asleep with his headphones and eyelids shut, soft breaths falling past his lips, when there’s a creak in his bed and a weight on top of him.

His headphones are lifted over his ears and set down beside him and his face is grabbed just like that, before there’s lips on top of his. He thinks Louis, but the gentle way his face is being held and the thick facial hair suggests Zayn.

Harry turns his face in a small enough protest that Zayn gives him a moment, face still hanging over his.

“I’m bigger than Louis.” Zayn tells him, and Harry wants him to prove it, starts by bringing his hands to Zayn’s belt and fixing it out of the belt loops just enough to pull down his jeans.

Louis never lets Harry touch or be in charge like this, so Harry goes with it, slipping his hand into Zayn’s boxers where Zayn’s half hard and a lot thicker than Louis, bigger.

“Louis doesn’t let you touch like that, hm?” Zayn hums. “Big enough for you, then?” Harry knows that this is his way of asking for permission.

Harry, with his hands down Zayn’s boxers, doesn’t protest when Zayn leans in to kiss him again. Instead, he jerks Zayn just enough to emit a moan falling into his mouth.

He doesn’t think much of it. Louis has people watch all the time, and Harry thinks it’s about time he gets to choose someone of his own, even if it’s without Louis being present. If it’s so much of a big deal, he doesn’t have to know.

Except, he does. It’s a small town.

Harry’s eventually turned over to lay on his stomach with a pillow beneath his hips to elevate his bum while he’s fingered open. Somewhere between Zayn being three fingers deep and having his cock up Harry’s bum, Harry’s wrists are tied behind his back with Zayn’s belt and the possibility that he may be allowed to touch this time is gone.

And then, when Zayn’s in the perfect spot, the tip of his cock nudging Harry’s prostate until he moans for more, Zayn reaches into his jean pocket and pulls out his cellphone.

“Hello?” The phone’s on speaker and Harry knows the voice, is all too familiar with it.

“Hey, Lou, what’s up?”

“Just got home. Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“I am.” Zayn coughs, and Harry prays Zayn won’t make him talk, won’t mention where he is right now and what he’s doing. “Not in mine, though.”

Harry gives up, deflates, and clenches around Zayn because he’s not moving inside of him.

“Harry’s?” Louis quirks.                    

“Hi.” Harry murmurs quietly, but because the phone’s right by his face, Louis hears.

Louis knows, he has to know that Zayn was going to do this. Maybe Louis had told him to, he doesn’t know, but Louis gives instructions, like he’s right there with him.

“Don’t let him come and don’t untie him.”

Louis hangs up.

Harry tries to move his hips and fight against Zayn’s hand, which reaches in between his legs and squeezes his balls until he no longer feels like he could come. Zayn thrusts in, thrusts out, and come across Harry’s back and over his bum, before getting dressed again and leaving the room.

Harry hates waiting for Zayn to return, wondering if he ever plans on doing so. He dozes off, and when he wakes up his wrists are freed and his backside is all clean. Zayn’s kneeling beside him in bed and wiping the hair out of his eyes.

“’M hard.” Harry whines through his face in his pillow.

“You’ll have to talk to Louis about that.”

Harry hates a world in which his orgasms run around Louis, but secretly loves it. He ends up dialing Louis’ number with Zayn’s phone because he doesn’t want to have to get up and ruffle through his work bag.

“No,” Louis responds to Harry’s plea to come, “and I don’t want you trying to get yourself off, either. Remember that cock cage I bought you?” Louis asks. “Tell Zayn to put that on for you.”

As much as he likes how pretty he looks with Zayn’s fingers fixing the metal around him and locking him with a key, which Zayn claims that he’ll bring to Louis tomorrow, Harry can’t go to sleep if he’s turned on like this.

When Zayn leaves the room to let him sleep and he hangs up with Louis, Harry grabs his laptop from his night table and finds a video to watch. Unsurprisingly, the only thing porn does is make him even more turned on.

+

Harry comes to Louis’ willing to beg. He knocks on his flat door urgently, shuffling from side to side at ten in the morning, and gasps when the door is opened.

“Louis,” it’s practically a moan, with the condition he’s in, “please, Lou, I need you.”

Louis isn’t as pleased to see Harry so early in the morning. He’s only in his boxers and his hair’s messy, facial hair thicker than usual.

“Jesus Christ,” Louis murmurs under his breath at the sight of Harry stumbling through his flat. He’s wearing his nicest pair of skinnies, a navy blue color that cups under his bum and quite generously accents it.

Harry leans into Louis, frowning and tracing his facial hair with the edge of his finger. “I bet that’d feel really nice,” Harry sounds glum, “between my legs.”

“You fucked Zayn last night.” Louis grabs Harry’s wrist and pulls it away from his face before releasing him. “And it would’ve,” Louis grabs his phone from the counter, his flat an open space with no true barrier between the kitchen and living room, “if you hadn’t been so greedy and fucked him.”

Harry’s eyebrows scrunch in the position of a frown, but he can’t protest, especially when Louis’ the one with a key to unlock his junk.

In defeat, Harry falls to the couch. “I didn’t initiate it.” He says, just loud enough for Louis to hear, but he knows it doesn’t really matter, at least not to Louis.

Louis leaves the room without a word and returns with a toothbrush in his mouth to turn the kettle on in the kitchen. Harry slumps further against the couch and checks his phone. And then the doorbell rings.

Harry’s unsure if he should answer, but doesn’t need to linger on it for much long when Louis gets out of the bathroom in a pair of lowly hung sweatpants, still topless.

Harry watches from the couch, craning his neck around, to see Louis open the door. Once Louis steps aside and the person comes in, he realizes it’s Zayn, who he hasn’t seen since last night.

“Harry.” Zayn smiles politely, but Harry’s confused. Until he watches Zayn hand Louis the key to the cock cage.

“Can you take it off now?” Harry asks. “My balls are turning blue.” He pouts, knows he’s being obnoxious and sounds kind of childish, despite what he’s saying, but _Louis’_ being childish, ignoring him like he’s not even there.

Louis sends a glare toward Harry.

“I also picked up what you said. Small, right?”

“I said medium.” Louis smiles. “He’ll do fine with small, though.”

Harry mind falls to butt plugs. Zayn has to be talking about butt plugs, and Harry’s thankful for it, until he’s seated on Louis’ bed with Zayn beside him and pressing a bag into his lap.

“What’s this for?” Harry asks, picking the piece of fabric out of the lingerie bag.

“To wear, I’m assuming.” Zayn holds Harry’s face in one hand and smooths his thumb over the angry expression focused between his eyebrows, the bunched up skin ridding his face with spite. Zayn leans in for a brief kiss, before, “There’s more in there.”

It’s not just underwear, but a bra and garter set that holds it all together.

Zayn has Harry lay down on the bed while he dresses him, having him lift his hips from the bed when necessary and legs to pull the tights all the way up. Harry expects it all to itch, to be too small, but the only uncomfortable aspect of it are the panties, which are tight around the crotch because they aren’t made for a penis and make his already blue balls bluer.

But Harry tries not to complain, even when Louis’ looming in the bedroom doorway and staring at Harry humiliatingly. Not when he takes a photo, or sets up his video camera.

Harry isn’t complaining, but he’s humiliated lying over Louis’ lap with his bum presented right in front of Louis and Zayn watching. Whoever the intended audience of the video watching.

Harry’s relaxed, thinks getting punished is almost worth it when Louis rubs his hand over his bum and adds pressure in between his legs and against his balls. The panties are still tight, but it’s not awful, and the tights feel cool against his freshly shaved legs.

“Lou!” Harry gasps in protest the second Louis’ hand comes fast down on top of his cheeks, right across the entirety of his bum. But he doesn’t stop it from happening again, and moans every time it does. Louis’ hand is firm and hard and with every spanking comes more pressure on his cock that he wouldn’t get without it.

Harry’s absolutely spent when Louis asks, “Are you going to be good now?”

He hums and nods his head, even presses his bum into Louis’ hand to show him how good he can be.

Harry’s moved with the help of Zayn, rolled over onto his back with his body facing the end of the bed and his head on a pillow. His panties are fumbled with until they’re pulled down just under his cock and Louis fixes the key in the lock.

“You’ll be good now, okay?” Louis asks, pinning Harry’s cock to his stomach and pressing a kiss to his balls.

Harry nods his head, but he’s too busy panting to get a word out.

He doesn’t realize it’s Zayn’s turn to punish him until his panties are pulled up so tight that his bulge is the most prominent thing about him, not his bra or how long his legs look in tights, and he’s laying with his stomach pressed to Zayn’s, Zayn beneath him.

Zayn grabs Harry’s bum the second he gets the opportunity to and groans at how reactive Harry is, Harry who whimpers the second Zayn’s hand presses past the fabric of his panties and he forces a finger inside of him.

There’s more slaps with the same amount of force as Louis’, except these are against his bare skin and followed by a finger inside of him.

Harry’s bum is sore, but he still can’t help feeling like he’s going to come. With each spanking, his hips rut forward and apply friction to his bulge.

“Lou,” Harry’s voice cracks when he tries to speak again. He turns his neck, searching for Louis in the room. “Lou.” Harry cries again when he can’t find him, only for Louis to come up from behind and rub his hand over Harry’s bare back, fumbling with the strap of his bra. “Can I,” Harry pants, “am I allowed to come?”

Harry doesn’t expect for Louis to say yes, so he’s surprised when Louis kisses the top of his head and murmurs, “You can come.” into his hair.

Harry comes because he’s been waiting since last night to do so, and because Zayn has two fingers inside him dry and his bum’s the sorest it’s ever been.

Afterward, when Harry’s cleaned up and in Louis’ oversized clothes that smell like laundry detergent and Louis’ cologne, and Zayn leaves to go back home and take care of Harry’s grandmother, Louis lays Harry over his lap again. Except this time, it’s to rub rosemary red lotion over his bum.

+

Harry considers the summer a success when all of the gay men in town know him by his first name and at least a quarter of them talk to Louis about getting some action.

Among his memories over the course of the summer is getting blown in the restroom of the bar Louis works at by a middle aged man with a wedding band while Louis held his hands above his head and pressed open mouthed kisses to his neck. Harry remembers Louis bargaining with the man beforehand, “No one gets to fuck him but me,” and wondering what Zayn’s involvement meant, then. If Louis was actually angry about it.

Harry recalls waiting for Louis’ shift to finish at the bar before taking the tube to a party at one of his friends’ house. The host always got first dibs, but if they declined, the offer was always open to a third party of their choosing. And Harry liked it that way, laying in the bed of whoever’s house it was and kissing in the dark while Louis made sure dry humping didn’t extend to something else.

During the rest of the summer, however, Harry doesn’t touch Zayn unless it’s to pass him the mail or he’s pressed against him in the loveseat. On occasion, Zayn will rest his hand on Harry’s leg, but it never extends much further than that.

Nevertheless, there’s a long list of men who watch Harry come, who please Harry, and tie his hands and feet together and watch Louis fuck him while he lies on his stomach. Harry could spend years doing whatever Louis tells him to and be fine, but the tough news is that Harry doesn’t live in Doncaster, he lives two hours away which isn’t so bad, but apparently it’s bad enough that Harry’s mum doesn’t come to visit once.

Harry dreads his last week, and then his last days. He aches for the security that he’ll always have when it comes to Louis’ touch, even though he knows that once he goes to Uni it’ll be all over.

+

The first time Niall watches Louis fuck Harry into the mattress is toward the end of July. Harry didn’t like the way he just watched emotionlessly, and had made the mistake of making eye contact just before he came and squeezed his eyes shut from the feeling in the pit of his stomach.

So when Niall asks again, four weeks later and while nearing the time of Harry’s departure, Harry wants Louis to say no.

“I’ll think about it.” Louis tells Niall from behind the bar and Harry fiddles with his fingers in his lap, glancing briefly at Niall while he leaves.

“I don’t want him to.” Harry says the second he’s out of the bar. “He’s weird.”

“He’s one of my best mates.” Louis leans in to kiss Harry on the tip of the nose, and continues wiping down the bar in the same three spots as he’s been doing, just for an excuse to continue to talk to Harry.

“He doesn’t do anything, though.”

“Do you want him to?”

“Lou, I don’t even think he’s getting off on it.” Harry whines. “What’s the point, then?”

“He probably just gets off after.”

Harry sighs as Louis has to go toward the other end of the bar to serve customers. He’s just ended his own shift at the convenience store, but since it’s a bar that Louis works at, his hours tend to last all throughout the night sometimes.

“What if I have you blow him, then?” Louis asks. “Would you be okay with that?”

Harry shrugs. “Is he going to just stare at me again?”

“Probably.”

Harry gets his way and blows Louis instead. They plan to go out to eat afterward, so Louis brings his car, and Harry blows him on the way to the restaurant.

Louis keeps one hand on the wheel and the other tightly locked around Harry’s curls, hissing whenever Harry goes exceptionally deep, which he’s been skilled at doing recently from all the practice on Louis and various other men.

Harry wipes his mouth with the back of his hand when Louis comes and fixes his jeans back on, buckling his belt, and giving Harry a gentle smirk.

“No Niall, then?”

“We’ll see.” Louis hums, and Harry groans because he hates Louis’ half sided answers.

He blows Louis again in the toilets for good measure, cheeks hallowed in more than ever before in an effort to sway Louis’ mind.

Niall is never mentioned again.

+

Harry knows that Louis’ planning something special for the day before he’s set to leave, but he doesn’t anticipate a party in honor of him. Because all of Harry’s new friends are Louis’, it’s a room full of people he’s only just met throughout the past two months, a quarter of whom have at least asked to get to watch Harry in the bedroom. And only a fraction of those people have actually seen Harry nude or in a state of orgasm or both.

Louis approaches the subject through, “I want to let Zayn fuck you before you leave,” and finishes it through having Zayn drive Harry to Louis’ and coming inside with him. Harry’s all freshly shaved in anticipation of another threesome, especially one with Zayn who has a hand on Harry’s lower back as they walk into the flat.

In the dark of the main room, everyone yells, “Surprise!” and Zayn flicks the lights on to reveal a room full of people.

Harry gasps, especially when Zayn squeezes his bum, before dropping his arm altogether. He finds Louis in the room immediately, and while everyone else resumes what they were doing before Harry’s arrival, he jumps into Louis’ arm and kisses him in thanks. They depart briefly to socialize with people not including one another.

Harry eventually ends up in the kitchen pouring himself a drink when Louis finds him again, wrapping his arms around Harry’s waist and whispering against his neck, “Come sit with me.”

In Louis’ guest room, there’s a blunt being passed around, smoke clouding the room, and Harry gets to sit on a loveseat, right on top of Louis’ lap. When the blunt reaches Louis, he inhales before having Harry turn and press their lips together, breathing into Harry’s mouth and not letting him pull back to exhale. Once the blunt is passed on to someone else, Harry feels horny just knowing that being high gives Louis a hard on.

“When can Zayn fuck me?” Harry asks quietly, and Louis laughs, moving one of his hands under Harry’s t-shirt to hold onto his bare waist.

“We have to prep you first.”

No more than a minute later, Louis’ leading Harry into his bedroom where Harry’s positioned to lay on his back and Louis teases his jeans off, sucking all over his chest, before moving his mouth down Harry’s naval and breathing hot over Harry’s half hard penis.

Harry squirms and lifts his knees off the bed, trapping Louis between his legs and twisting his hips because he needs more.

“Hey,” Louis frowns, “be good, sweetheart.”

Harry giggles, still high, and listens to Louis when he’s asked to hold his legs while he’s fingered open. Somewhere between the time when Louis has one finger in and three, he adds his tongue inside of Harry too, and Harry can’t be good anymore, no matter how hard he tries to be.

“Do I need to get Zayn in here?” Louis asks, reminding Harry of being spanked by both Louis and Zayn, and Harry shakes his head at the threat.

Louis has a fist inside of Harry when Harry feels like he might come. When he asks, a part of him expects Louis to say no, but for some reason he’s allowed. Louis makes sure to be the first to wipe some of it off Harry’s belly once he’s had his orgasm and have Harry suck on three of his fingers while the other five are inside of him, stretching him.

The butt plug Louis pulls out of his night table is big. Harry squirms away at first, trying to close his legs when Louis wants to slide it inside, but once his waist is pinned down and Louis squeezes his cock, giving him a warning glare that says he’s not putting up with Harry misbehaving tonight, it’s slid in slowly with the assistance of a heavy helping of lube.

The problem with the butt plug is that it’s heavy and Harry feels full. Ironically so, it feels so heavy that he also feels like he needs to clench around it to hold it in, even with his jeans and boxers pulled up.

As to torture Harry, it seems, Louis asks who wants to do body shots and when they find out it’s off of Harry, most people are in for the challenge. There’s alcohol poured into his belly button and over his chest and a lime placed into his mouth.

Harry can’t help but moan every time his body’s licked over and when someone feels ballsy and sucks the lime out of Harry’s mouth before sticking their tongue down his throat. Harry welcomes it, and even wraps his legs around Zayn’s waist from on top of the table when he does it, moaning loudly accidentally. If anything, it just causes the people surrounding them to cheer and Louis to smirk, something Harry catches from the corner of his eye when Zayn pulls away.

Unfortunately, Louis doesn’t take a shot. “I’ve got to stay sober to take care of you.” Louis says while wiping Harry’s stomach clean of all scent of alcohol and other people’s mouths. He kisses Harry on the forehead, before making a grab for his bum.

By midnight, Harry’s only half drunk, but the blood in his cock makes him feel purely wasted as he sits beside Zayn on the couch.

“You’re fucking me tonight, right?” Harry asks, because he needs to know all this is worth it.

“If Louis says it’s okay.”

“There’s a butt plug,” Harry makes a large circle with his hands, “this big inside me. I want it out.”

Zayn laughs and runs his hand up and down Harry’s back comfortingly.

It’s one in the morning when Harry’s cheeks are permanently flushed and he feels wrecked. People are slowly beginning to pour out of the flat, and Harry’s thankful once the last group of people leave.

He doesn’t have to be told to go to Louis’ bedroom, which has been locked all night, he ends up there, stripping bare and scrambling to get under the covers. Despite needing to get fucked, to get off, a large part of him feels too tired to move.

Louis comes in first, pressing kisses to Harry’s neck when he feels drowsy and close to sleep. And then Zayn, who Louis lets strip the covers back and open Harry’s legs wide enough to see the plug.

“How long has this been in there?”

Louis laughs, “At least four hours now.”

Harry whines when Zayn gradually pulls the plug out, trying to move his hips in a thrusting motion to gain some sort of relief.

Apparently, he’s stretched open enough for Zayn to go in with little lube and no condom and Louis to run his hands through Harry’s hair for comfort.

Harry gasps and bucks his hips forward, only for Zayn to push them back down. He thrust in and out, in and out, and when Harry thinks he’s so close to coming (he comes faster than Louis and Zayn because he’s eighteen, but over the course of the summer he’s been getting better at holding it with Louis’ help), Louis has Harry sit up.

Louis and Zayn reposition themselves so their cocks are pressed together, before Louis lifts him by his waist to sit down on them. He has no other choice and cries out at how big it all is, even though he knows he’s stretched open enough to take it. With his back pressed to Zayn’s chest and his head pressed into the crook created by Louis’ neck and shoulder, two sets of hands control how fast he rides up and down on their cocks.

When it becomes too fast that the rubbing on his prostate becomes too much, he shakes his head and murmurs, “Slower,” into Louis’ skin, but he doesn’t listen and it has Harry coming against Louis’ stomach.

The problem is when Zayn and Louis come, deep inside Harry without condoms, that he suddenly feels so full. Louis has Harry lay on his back again with his legs in the air and spread apart, held down by Zayn because Harry’s too tired to move.

“Your hole won’t close, darling.” Louis tsks. “All the come’s going to fall out.”

Harry struggles to process what is going on, but through glazed eyes and long blinks, he sees Louis take a picture of how far open Harry is, before showing it to him.

And he’s stretched open so wide on the one time Louis barebacks, Louis and _Zayn_ bareback, leaving him full of come that begins to drip out. As it does, Louis wipes it with his fingers for Harry to suck off.

This drags on until Zayn leaves the room to get a cloth, as to not dirty up the bed, and Harry falls asleep with his head on his shoulder and resting on his back.

When he wakes up the next morning, Zayn’s telling him they have to get going if they want to make it home in time to go out to brunch like Harry’s grandma has had planned. He doesn’t get to see Louis again until he’s saying his goodbyes and regretfully about to be heading back home to Cheshire.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://arofrottage.tumblr.com)


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